Matchmaker
by aykayem
Summary: After her years at Hogwarts, Hermione starts up a matchmaking service. Alternate universe. A series of oneshots. Slash and crack pairings.
1. Prologue

Title: Matchmaker

Series: Harry Potter

Genre: Romance / General

Summary: After her years at Hogwarts, Hermione starts up a matchmaking service. Alternate universe. A series of one-shots. Slash and crack pairings.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyright to JK Rowling.

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Prologue

Grey skies split as the sun demanded some attention from the Londoners. It was a cold day, up until that point, so most wore light woollen scarves and thin jackets atop their day-to-day outfits. As the sun warmed the ground, some found the scarves too much, and stashed them away in bags or pockets.

A gaggle of teenagers, laughing and skipping as they walked from their private school, passed by a thin, two-storey building. It was relatively old, thus drawing no attention from the youths. The faded bricks were crumbling in places, and the roof needed more than one reparation before it was fully fit to survive a heavy rain. A single swinging sign, resembling that of an old tavern or such, creaked and groaned with each minor sway. The lettering had faded and was hardly legible, though those who wanted to find it could without much difficulty. After all, the building looked abandoned to Muggles.

Inside, however, the foyer bustled with customers. Booking appointments, readings, or simply buying some of the many potions on display. The owner of the building and shoppe stood behind the counter, punching buttons on the register, glancing down to the quill taking down appointments every so often, and finally leaving the patrons with a warm "thank you for shopping!"

As the last of the buyers left, smiling and wishing her well, the brunette slumped down on the chair she'd placed conveniently behind her. The business was small, but booming, just as the Weasley Wizard Wheeze's had. The woman shouldn't have been surprised, but she was. By the number of daily consumers, by the rapid rate at which she had to mix potions to keep stocked, by the general success of her trade.

Never once did she expect the idea of matchmaking to come to her head one day. But it did, and she embraced it, disregarding just how much busier she'd become. Hermione Granger was going to have a popular business, no matter what she sold, it seemed. In the beginning, she'd stuck with plain potions. No more than a month later, she'd added potions for luck and keycharms charmed to help with various every day things. Lately, she'd been debating mentally just what to sell next, and that evening it dawned on her.

"I'll play matchmaker." She told her reflection in the mirror as she teased her long light brown hair into a soft mass of ringlets. A smile crept along her soft lips as she thought through the idea. She had only had a small thing with Ron back in school, but it hadn't lasted too long, unfortunately. They'd gone to different trades, and hadn't seen much of each other. Maybe this way she'd be able to create perfect pairs and satisfy her romantic craving. Maybe she'd find out if she was good for Ron or not. Or if he was good for her, even. She tittered to herself silently.

Yes, she would start a matchmaking service. She'd fill her own romantic void with the happiness of others. Besides, it would give her something to do on those long empty nights.


	2. Just Can't Get You Outta My Head

Title: Matchmaker

Series: Harry Potter

Genre: Romance / General

Summary: After her years at Hogwarts, Hermione starts up a matchmaking service. Alternate universe. A series of one-shots. Slash and crack pairings.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is copyright to JK Rowling.

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Just Can't Get You Outta My Head

She remembered fondly that day. The day she alone drove Harry to the King's Cross Station, as Dudley and Vernon had been busy doing something. What it was wasn't important to her. The black haired abomination had disappeared from her view, and she began to leave the Station happily. As she walked back to her car, head held high and nose in the air, a look about her face as though a disgusting smell was beneath her nose, she spotted a man out of the corner of her eyes.

She blushed, simply remembering the look of him. His mildly annoyed, aloof expression, greasy black hair and dark, cold eyes. He invoked feelings she'd long since felt for Vernon, although they didn't see a divorce necessary at the time. She wanted to get to know him, even as he disappeared into the pillar of the Station. She knew from that moment he was just like her dreadful sister's son, but it didn't deter her at all. In fact, it may have made her want him more.

She leaned back in the large chair set up in the parlour of their providential home. The boy was gone for good now, living off somewhere in his own world, figuratively and literally. Of course, it meant that she'd have to go out of her way to find that greasy-haired man again. She was aware of her son's stares as she sighed lamentably, her face and shoulders falling. She couldn't very well tell him why she was that way, just as she couldn't tell Vernon.

She subconsciously sipped at her tea, trying to find a way to find him again. Perhaps one of those "friends" of that boy's would know. But that would mean contacting Harry to get some way to contact them. Which was out of the question, naturally. He probably wouldn't be in a phone book, who even knew if "that kind" used phones. Besides, she didn't know his name.

"Mum?" Dudley questioned, reaching over to the table and grabbing a pastry in his grubby hand, then stuffing it in his mouth. "What're you thinking about?"

"Nothing, Duddy." She shot a forced smile to her son, sipping at her tea again, then folding her arms over her chest as she remembered passing a store the weekend before. No one else seemed to have seen it, and neither did she the first time. Only now did she seem to remember a shop at which matchmaking was offered. Maybe they'd help her find that mystery man who made her feel so warm inside.

"Mummy's going to go out for a while, all right, Duddy? You make sure not to ruin the house while I'm gone. And greet your father when he comes home." She instructed her son, standing up, leaving her tea unfinished as she promenaded up the stairs to change into a nice dress for going out. Dudley simply watched her in mild interest before turning his eyes to the pastries again and hungrily stuffing a few in his mouth before his mother came back down the stairs.

Petunia flattened the dress over her bony form as she stepped out, greeting her neighbours with another forced smile as she stepped elegantly down the steps and down the walk. She didn't think it was too far to the shop, so she ignored the car in the driveway. Gossip fluttered about behind her, everyone having not nearly enough of a life, and thus wondering just where she was headed on a day like this at this time, when she really should be making dinner for her husband. If Petunia got her way, she'd be married to another man by the end of the week.

A smirk crept up her thin lips, and she sniffed delicately, raising her nose to the sky and she sauntered down the street. _That's right, watch me like the gossips you all are. _She thought to herself, eyes not leaving the sidewalk ahead of her.

Hardly any time seemed to have passed as she made her way. Finally, she'd reached the shop, plain on the outside with a single sign hanging. She wasn't sure it matched the store she knew was inside. Frowning slightly, she folded up the parasol she'd carried over her shoulder and tapped a boarded up window of the building. She was sure the store was there, and she most definitely was not going home without finding out who the man was.

Pouting in abhorrence as she tapped the window again, she blinked in surprise as the window tapped against glass. Wasn't a rotting wooden board there just a moment ago? Yes, there was! She'd simply blinked and the shop was there! She must have been losing her mind.

Taking the parasol beneath her arm, she ambled through the door, looking around. A young woman with auburn ringlets to her waist was at the counter, smiling warmly. The shelves around the store were empty, and Petunia frowned slightly, but ignored them and stalked to the counter.

"You offer a matchmaking service?" The girl nodded, and leaned down, pulling out a small sign that read "matchmaking in progress. Please be patient." Petunia frowned at this sign as well. Surely the young woman wouldn't be running the store by herself. It just wasn't safe. But she followed the woman into the back, past a dark curtain and into a stereotypical booth, lit by candles.

"What's your name, ma'am?" The girl asked, folding her long skirt beneath her as she sat down upon the chair opposite Petunia. Petunia sat as well, leaning her parasol against the metal chair. She didn't expect to be too long, and hopefully she'd reach home before Vernon did.

"Petunia Dursley." She replied, clearing her throat slightly and arranging herself in a most regal fashion, or at least what she thought was one. The girl's expression changed for a moment, before returning to the smile. It almost seemed to be a surprised look, and Petunia wondered how the woman knew of her. It was obvious that a one-way introduction was only going to be given, so Petunia cleared her throat again. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

"Hermione." The girl flipped a ringlet over her shoulder, then drew a shallow bowl out from beneath the table they sat at. Petunia had hardly noticed it, as the colour of it matched the colour of the curtains draped about the room. "Please ask any question you like."

Petunia opened her mouth slightly, then hesitated. How would she ask the question? 'Who was the man I saw at the King's Cross Station one September a few years ago?' 'Should I leave my husband for a man I know nothing of?' She truly had no idea. "How many questions am I allowed?"

"As many as you like. Keep in mind that you pay for the number of questions and the depth of the answer." Of course Petunia would have to pay for the questions. How much, she wondered, would she have to spend on this day?

"Am I meant to spend the rest of my life with a man I no longer love to the depths of my heart, or is there another I should be with?" Petunia asked quietly, her eyes focused on the bowl.

"Please close your eyes."

"Must I?"

"Not if you don't want to." Hermione shrugged slightly, and waved a hand over the bowl. It was, oddly enough, filled with a translucent material which began rippling. An blurred image appeared in the bowl, getting clearer with each moment passed, until it was clear as day. It was moving, which was odd to Petunia, however she ignored that fact. Everything about this shop was weird.

"This is the man you should be with right now." Hermione stuttered quietly, a lump having developed in her throat as her eyes watched the man in veiled hatred. His greasy hair hung plainly to his shoulders, his cold eyes criticising each vial he lifted with his long, bony fingers, the other hand marking with a long quill. No one used quills anymore though. All the more mystery added to the man. But now Petunia had a glance into his life. Perhaps the background was an area of Harry's school, she wondered.

"I don't know him." Petunia told the woman, who had looked away from the bowl. Hermione's eyes looked back to Petunia, and one eyebrow raised in question.

"You're sure? You must have at least seen him once. Otherwise he wouldn't have been revealed to you." Hermione leaned on her hands, folded under her chin. "His name is Severus Snape. He's a teacher by profession."

Severus. What a delightful name, Petunia thought to herself. And a teacher! She wondered what he taught at that dreadful school. "How do I find him?"

"Not easily. I'm sure you could find him if you really tried though. I suggest that if you start a wild goose chase for him, you divorce your husband and give him custody of your son, with visiting rights given to you." Petunia stared blankly in shock. How could this ringleted young woman have known about Dudley and Vernon? Petunia had never once mentioned them.

"How long would it take?"

"Quite a while, I'd think." She waved her hand over the bowl again, which emptied of the liquid, once again sitting clean and smooth to the touch. "He teaches almost year-round at a dormitory school. I couldn't tell you where he lived either, as I'm not sure." Frowning, she trailed off, then waved her opposite hand over the bowl, not speaking. She seemed to be deeply entwined in something, as her neat eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

After a moment, an image of Severus appeared again, then disappeared before it could fully take shape. It was replaced with an image that – to Petunia – appeared to simply be a large rolling hill, a lake and a small town down below. That image didn't fully form before being replaced either though. The final image then appeared, fully forming. It was a dank looking residence, causing Petunia to subconsciously wrinkle her nose. Small and homely, looking hardly lived in at all, almost abandoned. Petunia flicked her eyes up to Hermione.

"You can likely find him here on the 13 of August. It's in Spinner's End. That's all I can tell you." She shrugged, waving a hand over the bowl nonchalantly, standing up from the seat and motioning for Petunia to take her leave of the small room. They left, thoughts swimming in the older woman's head as they took their places at the register.

"3 pounds, please." Hermione told Petunia, opening the register with a chink. Petunia caught a glimpse of a foreign currency, though there seemed to be more of it than there was English currency. In fact, there was hardly any English money at all. She dropped the coins into Hermione's open palm, who promptly dropped them into the register and slammed it shut. "Have a nice day, Mrs Dursley."

Petunia nodded grudgingly, and left, making sure she'd picked up her parasol and flicking it open as she stood upon the step of the shop. Without glancing back once, she made her way home, reaching the door long before Vernon did. Of course, Dudley had stuffed himself silly, giving Petunia a stomach-ache to take care of before dinner.

The 13 of August came quickly. Surprisingly quickly, actually. Petunia dressed herself up in her best and took ahold a parasol. Dudley was at a friend's house and Vernon was at work. Petunia hadn't bothered to divorce him until she knew for a fact that Severus wouldn't turn her away at the door. However, she did have a new house picked out if he chose to love her, as well as the divorce papers already signed.

Spinner's End was startlingly far from Privet Drive. By the time she reached the horrible looking home, it was reaching the late afternoon, although she left after Dudley left, early that morning. What would you expect from walking, however. She gave a few quick raps on the door with her knuckles, lowering her parasol.

A shriek was heard from inside, then a thud and a dark monotonous voice scolding someone. Soft footfalls were heard and finally the door opened. "Who in the world are you?" The words weren't even phrased as a question, instead as a statement. Petunia felt half-disappointed, but loved the direct way of speaking he had. He was even more perfect than the quick glimpses of him had made her think.

"Petunia Dursley. You're Severus Snape, I believe?" She asked, trying to get her voice to sound flirtatious. Snape's eyebrows rose slightly, though his general expression didn't change. His hand was still positioned over the doorknob, looking as thought he might slam the door on her at any moment. Instead, he removed his hand, and motioned for her to come in.

"Wormtail. Go lock yourself under the stairs." Snape regarded a small twitchy man with revulsion. The man nodded, still twitching and backed from the room, bowing with every step to Snape, his back never facing Snape for even a second. The greasy haired male then turned to Petunia. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea?"

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Petunia and Severus hit it off that very moment at the doorstep. For the remainder of the evening, the two had sipped tea and gotten to know each other. Severus didn't even question how she knew where his temporary residence was, or how in the world she'd realised he existed. Both knew they were meant to be, and both knew they'd get their way before long. There was the simple matter of the divorce of the Dursleys.

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Time had passed, and finally Petunia and Severus were wed. For once in his life, Severus appeared happy. Hermione had attended the informal wedding, gazing upon the couple she'd brought together, a smile twitching at her lips. A thought passed through her head at one time: what would happen when Harry realised that his most hated teacher when they were in school was now his uncle? She tittered beneath her breath at the thought, and made a mental note that another of her couples had turned out happy and well.


End file.
